


Revolution 9

by lumosy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Ginny, F/F, F/M, Ginny is still in love with Tom, M/M, its all a mess, underdog draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 22:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10202360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosy/pseuds/lumosy
Summary: Draco knew he could be the best, but as long as Harry Potter lived he would never be. So he took pride in the little things he could. He was a simple man, he thought, as he fucked the boy wonder's name right out of the little blood traitor's mouth.Or:What if Draco Malfoy had rebelled?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a preface of sorts.

Ginny creeps into the lounge, softly shutting the door behind her and murmuring a locking charm. The air is tensely silent in the darkness. She holds a shuddering breath and walks cautiously towards the cabinet in the center of the room, glowing, drenched in moonlight from the window behind it. 

It shakes once, and Ginny jumps despite herself. Her hand tightens around her wand. The cabinet shakes again, harder this time, until she comes to a stop in front of it and it gives one last, vigorous jolt before falling lifeless.

Somehow the stillness is worse, and her hands twitch as she reaches to unhook the door, pulls it open, backs away.

For a few moments, there is nothing. The room is silent again; she can hear only her own shaky breathing and pounding heart.

Then, a whisper in the darkness. 

“ _ Ginevra. _ ”

A black shoe steps out of the cabinet. With it follows a pant leg, then another, but Ginny stares resolutely at the shoes as an upper body appears. 

The shoes take a step forward. She can hear breathing that isn’t her own. 

A long, thin finger reaches under her chin and lifts it gently. She stares at the finger until it drops, and then she looks up, directly into golden eyes, ones she’s been dreaming about for five years. He looks the same as he had when she was eleven. The same long nose, wide eyes, dark hair curls brushing his forehead. His lips twitch up minutely and he pinches her cheek between two fingers. 

“My, aren’t you lovely,” His voice is like molasses, smooth and deep. Her legs nearly buckle when his hands change to stroking her cheek. “How long has it been?”

“Five years.” Her voice tastes like ash in her throat.

“Too long, love.” He smiles. “Did you miss me?” She nods frantically, chest heaving with shuddering breaths, shaking when he places his other hand on her waist.

Tom tightens his grip, and Ginny knows what follows this. She knows what he will ask and how she will answer.

“Show me how much you missed me.” His voice creeps lower, sending chills down her spine. She reaches out and brushes a strand of dark hair off his forehead, strokes the sharp cheekbone, revels in the flawless span of smooth skin.

He’s perfect.

She has to stand on her toes to reach his lips, but their height difference is not nearly so profound as it was all those years ago. He smiles against her mouth, tugs sharply at her shirt and bites down once, hard enough to draw blood, and chuckles when it earns a deep moan,

Ginny pulls back and drops to her knees in front of him. 

In the moonlight, with her sleep shirt torn, revealing the curve of one breast, with crimson blood dripping from her mouth, she smiles.


End file.
